The thing I hate about us the most is the fact that it's okay for you to condemn me when I sin. But when I do such, I'm a bitch. When you're fcking losing your mind over what happened, I'm the one that loses sleep over it. I'm the one thinking of 13123123123442 ways to make you feel better. But you cant even take a minute to get serious with me and talk about the situation.

I'm not saying I blame you but every time I think about the last moments I spent with that person I was too dead tired to form coherent sentences. I was so fcking exhausted from telling you in 123125433124 ways to get over it. Shit, that was almost a year ago, and you're still not. It wasn't even worth it. I love you but at that moment... you wasted my fucking time, time I need to get back but cant.

I know there is no use crying over spilled milk but I think I will cry over the time I wasted. Not that you care.